You're All I See
by ellembee
Summary: "There were many theories concerning the multiverse, but Peeta's favorite was the idea that the universe was infinite, so there were infinite worlds, worlds born from every decision each person made." Three universes, three decisions. Everlark.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Title comes from the song "2 Heads" by Coleman Hell.

* * *

1.

Peeta had been in his new apartment for three days when he realized he hadn't had a home cooked meal since he made his big move. He checked Google and found the nearest Stop & Shop was twenty minutes away.

Of course. The perks of living in a small town.

He ended up at a local store located five minutes from his apartment building. Higher prices for less of a selection. Yeah, he was going to love this small town stuff.

He walked into Capitol Mart and decided it had a big name for such a small place. He made quick work of the handful of aisles, grabbing whatever caught his eye rather than working off a list. At this point, anything was better than another serving of General Tso's Chicken.

He stood in line at the only checkout line that was open and studied the magazine headlines as he waited.

"Shit," the woman in front of him mumbled.

He looked up to find a very pretty brunette staring at the cashier. "Can you try once more, Darius?" she asked. "Maybe it's a mistake."

"I tried three times, Kat. It got declined."

"Katniss?" A young girl with blonde braids looked up at the brunette. They didn't look alike, but Peeta assumed they were somehow related.

"Can you go wait in the car, Prim?"

The blonde hesitated. Katniss gave her a pleading look, so she nodded and exited through the nearby automatic door.

Katniss batted the braid that hung over her shoulder out of her way as she dug through her purse. "I…I only have ten dollars on me."

Her groceries were already packed in several paper bags. The electronic screen displayed the total: $112.45.

"My mother must have paid the rent early," she explained. "I don't get paid for another week. Can't I just…owe you? Maybe?"

"You know I can't do that," Darius said quietly, leaning a little closer. "Cato would have me fired."

She nodded, her cheeks flushed, and took a step backwards. She surveyed the bags of groceries, her empty cart. "Right, okay. Let me just get the milk, bread, and peanut butter."

"Hey, wait," Peeta interrupted. Both the woman and the cashier turned toward him. The woman—Katniss?—looked even more embarrassed now that she realized she had a witness.

Peeta lifted his credit card in the air. "I can pay."

"No, that's really not necessary," Katniss said.

"It's no problem at all." He handed his card to the cashier.

"I said it's not necessary," Katniss snapped. She yanked the card out of Darius's hand and shoved it back into Peeta's. "I'll be fine."

"It's no problem," Peeta said. "You can pay me back if it bothers you that much. We can exchange numbers, and—"

"I don't know what's worse. You taking pity on me, or you thinking this is some kind of meet cute."

"I'm not—"

"Mind your own business!" Katniss dug into the paper bags and pulled out the gallon of milk, loaf of bread, and jar of peanut butter. "Just these, Darius," she said, staring straight ahead.

Darius quickly surveyed the items she selected and winced. "I think with tax it's going to be more than ten dollars."

By this point, Katniss's olive skin had turned a deep shade of red. She swore under her breath and rubbed her forehead. Peeta pulled out his card again.

"Please?" he asked as if she was the one doing him a favor.

She nodded before looking back down at her purse. While Darius charged the $112.45 to Peeta's card, Katniss dug out her cell phone.

"Put your number in," she said.

"I wasn't trying to hit on you," Peeta insisted. "You don't have to pay me back. It's not a big deal."

"Of course it is," Katniss snapped, thrusting her phone at him once more.

Katniss quickly shoved the grocery bags into her cart before taking her phone back from Peeta.

"Thanks," she said, unable to meet his eyes.

"It's no problem," he replied, but she was already walking toward the door.

* * *

Monday morning, Peeta woke up at three-thirty AM, long before his alarm was set to go off.

He tossed and turned for over an hour, but his mind kept wandering back to the lesson plans he had carefully constructed over the past couple of weeks.

Despite his best efforts, his brain would not shut off.

After graduating in May, and languishing in the purgatory that is the time between college and a Real Job, Peeta had grown desperate. He had applied for thirty positions, interviewed for ten, but budget cuts and tough competition kept him unemployed. His mother was growing increasingly frustrated with his perceived idleness. She also kept leaving brochures for law school lying on his bed.

Finally, Peeta had been offered a mid-year position as a long-term substitute for high school English. He was guaranteed work until June with the possibility of a permanent position the following year.

He had been in Panem, Vermont for five days, but his apartment was still a mess. Half-open boxes and stacks of textbooks crowded every inch of available space. He had no furniture other than one kitchen chair and a box spring and mattress.

He doubted he'd be able to afford much more any time soon.

His mother had called him an idiot for moving four hours away for a temporary position. She refused to support him financially, but luckily he had a chunk of change saved up from working at a bakery during his time at Yale.

Her reaction was reason enough to take the risk.

Except now he was terrified. What if he was terrible? What if the students hated him? What if he couldn't control them?

What if he failed?

There was no way in hell he was moving back home.

Finally, at five AM, he gave up on falling back asleep. He took a shower, packed his messenger bag, and left the apartment in search of breakfast. Despite running up a bill of over one hundred dollars, he had failed to buy a single breakfast item at the grocery store.

His stomach was in knots, but he was determined to force something down. The last thing he needed was to pass out in front of his class due to low blood sugar.

District Diner was situated halfway between Peeta's apartment building and the high school. It was small and a little rundown (half the letters on the sign were burnt out), but it seemed cozy enough, and he had plenty of time to kill.

There were only two other customers. The girl behind the cash register scowled at him as if his presence was a huge inconvenience. Her nametag read Johanna. With a jab of her pointed chin, she told him to sit wherever.

He picked a booth in the back next to a window. It was still pitch black outside, making it feel like the dead of night rather than an hour before sunrise. He pulled out his binder of lesson plans, prepared to reread them for the ten millionth time, when an empty mug appeared in front of him.

He looked up. The waitress wasn't scowling like the other girl, but she wasn't really smiling either. If anything, she looked bored. She was pretty though with dark hair twisted into a single braid and gray eyes.

She was also the girl from the grocery store.

"Good morning. I'm Katniss. I'll be your server. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

She sounded like a robot, rattling off the standard greeting. She placed a menu in front of him and stifled a yawn behind her hand. She froze then, her gaze finally settling on his face.

"Coffee sounds good," Peeta said.

Her hand dropped to her side, and she nodded. When she returned with the coffee pot, he ordered egg whites and a cup of fresh fruit.

She arched an eyebrow. "Is that all?"

"Yeah." He could have left it at that. Her expression wasn't exactly inviting an explanation.

Still, he blurted out, "I just moved to town, and I 'm starting a new job today. It's my first real post-college job, and I'm too nervous to eat."

"Oh," she said before she walked back to the kitchen.

Well, that was mortifying. It was hard being so far away from all his friends. He had lived in Connecticut his entire life and attended college there. This was his first time living not only alone but also away from everyone he knew. He had no support system. Delly and Finnick had texted him a few times, but he didn't want to confess how nervous he was.

No, he wanted to ramble on about it to a complete stranger who could not care less. Who probably hated him for reminding her of the embarrassment she suffered two days ago.

When Katniss returned, she set down two plates in front of him. One contained his order of egg whites and a pile of fresh fruit. There was a pancake on the other with a whipped cream smiley face.

"Just in case you get hungry," she said. "And for good luck."

She didn't smile or even seem that happy, but he might have fallen in love right then and there.

(Just a little bit.)

* * *

When the check arrived, the total was written at the bottom, slashed through with a pen. Three zeroes sat underneath.

When Peeta tried to pay, Johanna told him he was working off an existing tab. The good news was that he still had $102.85 left.

He asked to speak with Katniss, but Johanna insisted she was busy in the kitchen.

He left a $10 tip.

The next day, he arrived at the same time and sat in the same booth.

Katniss greeted him with a frown. "You're back up to your original amount," she said. "You can't tip."

"Uh, is this not a diner? Do you not accept tips here?"

"I owe you money. You can't give me money while I still owe you."

"That's not fair. I accept eating for free, but I have to tip you." Katniss opened her mouth to argue, but he continued on, "If I can't tip you, I'll have to take my business elsewhere. And then how will you pay me back?"

She glared at him. "You're impossible."

"Me? _I'm_ the impossible one?"

"Just don't tip the amount the check is for. That defeats the whole purpose."

"Fine. Just the standard twenty to thirty percent then."

She rolled her eyes and held up the coffee pot. He gladly accepted before ordering an egg white omelet with tomato, ham, and broccoli and a side of hash browns.

When she brought him his order, she asked how his first day went.

"It was great. I didn't pass out," Peeta said.

"That's good, I guess," she replied. "Although that's a pretty low standard to measure your success by."

Peeta laughed and explained that he taught high school, and how despite his education, he wasn't completely sure what he was doing.

"No one knows what they're doing," she said with a shrug. "The good news is that teenagers assume adults do, so they probably won't notice."

"Thanks. That actually makes me feel better."

For the first time since he had met her, she smiled.

* * *

Stopping for breakfast every morning before work become routine. He always arrived by five forty-five, always sat in the same booth, and always had Katniss as his waitress.

Every day, he ordered the same meal until Katniss finally stopped offering him the menu. Eventually, she didn't even stop at his booth to ask. She served him his usual minutes after he arrived.

"If you're going to change it up, you'll have to warn me the day before," she had said one day.

He never tried anything else though. He liked the routine.

Sometimes he reviewed his lesson plans for the week. Other days he graded papers. But Katniss always asked him about work. She let him ramble on as long as he liked too. He figured she only asked because she was bored. There were never more than four customers in the diner.

The perks of eating at six in the morning.

One day, she sat down across from him. She rested her cheek on her hand, and asked if Trevor was still disrupting class and whether Mia was finally speaking up.

She asked about his apartment, if he had gotten more furniture.

She asked about Finnick, if Peeta had spoken with him recently.

She asked about his weekends, if he was making any friends.

He had to shove a forkful of egg in his mouth to stop himself from asking her what _she_ did on the weekends.

(He was terrified she had a boyfriend.)

Peeta tried to ask Katniss about her life, but she was very private. He could count all the things he knew about her on one hand:

She hated waitressing.

She was not a people person.

Her favorite color was green.

She had a younger sister named Prim.

That was it. The first two kind of went hand-in-hand, so really, he only knew three things.

"How old are you?" he asked one day as she refilled his coffee cup.

She frowned. "Twenty-three, why?"

"Same age as me."

"O-kay." She waited a beat, but he didn't offer up an explanation, so she disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Do you have any hobbies?" he asked the following day after she slid into the seat across from him.

"Waitressing."

"That's your job. What do you do in your free time?"

She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back. "Why do you want to know?"

"I want to learn a little more about you. Aren't you tired of listening to me go on and on every morning?"

"I like listening to you." She looked away and tugged at her braid. "I mean. You're interesting. Your stories are. They're funny."

"Oh." It was less what she had said and more how she had said it that took him by surprise. She had blurted out the first part without thinking. It had sounded sincere.

She offered him a tight smile and slid out of the booth. "I need to check on my other tables."

(She had one other table. It was a regular named Plutarch who, as far as Peeta could tell, lived on coffee and currently had a full mug.)

"Just one hobby?" Peeta called after her.

She looked over her shoulder. "I like archery."

Well, he certainly hadn't expected that.

* * *

On the last Monday in June, months after Katniss's debt was erased and Peeta had started paying for his meal, Peeta walked into the diner, waved at Johanna who scowled back, and sat in his booth.

After nearly six months of coming to the diner every morning, Monday through Friday, it was hard not to consider the booth as his.

A cup of coffee appeared in front of him, and he looked up with a wide smile, prepared to greet his waitress.

(And after six months, she sort of was _his_ waitress, right?)

Except it wasn't Katniss staring down at him. A familiar brunette with a nametag that read Annie held out a menu. He had seen her plenty of times in the morning, but they had only exchanged pleasantries once or twice.

"Good morning!" she chirped. "Do you need to look at this or are you getting your usual?"

"Uh." He took the menu from her. It made sense that other servers here knew his typical order. Everyone knew him by now. But it felt strange to have someone other than Katniss offer it. Sometimes he forgot they weren't the only two people in the diner. "I'll look it over."

"Okay. I'll be back in a few. Take your time."

Peeta watched her go, puzzled. He looked down at the menu, something he hadn't opened since his first week here.

He studied the breakfast spread for about ten seconds before he glanced at the door to the kitchen. He sighed, returned to the menu before promptly looking back up. He craned his neck, scoping out the entire diner. He twisted in the booth to make sure Katniss wasn't behind him, helping another customer.

She wasn't.

When he turned back around, Johanna was sitting across from him with a wicked smile.

Peeta jumped in his seat. "Holy shit!"

"Looking for someone, blondie?"

"No," he said entirely too fast.

"Mmhmm." Johanna tapped her chin. "You mean you're not looking around like a sad, lost puppy for Katniss?"

"Oh, is she not here today?" Peeta fidgeted under her scrutinizing gaze. She made him more nervous than all of his students combined.

(Times ten.)

"Rumor has it you're a high school teacher?"

A spark of excitement ran through him at the thought that Katniss had mentioned him to someone else, even if that someone else was Johanna.

Of course, he was always lugging around piles of papers to grade and giant anthologies of short stories and poetry. It wouldn't be difficult to figure it out.

"I am," he said.

"School's out. Why are you still showing up here at six in the morning?"

"I teach summer school."

(Which was true. Except it didn't start for another week.)

"Right." Johanna patted his hand as if to say, _I know you're lying but I'll let you save face and drop it._ "Anyway, Katniss doesn't work here anymore. Yesterday was her last day."

"What?" His heart dropped, leaving his chest hollow and aching. He couldn't imagine the entire summer without Katniss let alone the rest of his life. He didn't even know her last name.

Johanna burst out laughing. "Wow, you have got it bad."

"Excuse me?"

"The look on your face when I…I said…" Laughter swallowed up the rest of her words.

"Isn't there some kind of rule against about being rude to customers?"

Johanna sat back and let out a content sigh. "Yeah, probably. Anyway, I was kidding."

He was going to get whiplash from the emotional trauma this woman was putting him through. "About what, exactly?"

"Katniss is on the graveyard shift for the rest of the summer."

"So she still works here?"

"Don't worry, blondie, she wouldn't go anywhere without telling you. Her shift ends at five-thirty. You actually just missed her."

Johanna stood and patted his head. He batted her away. "I guess you'll be back later tonight."

"That's highly unlikely," he called after her.

* * *

Peeta came back later that night.

At half past one, the diner was packed. His booth was unavailable and an unfamiliar waitress sat him in the wrong section.

He almost asked for a different seat, but he chickened out at the last second.

He rattled off his usual order to an overly cheerful waiter named Thom and waited.

Maybe Johanna had lied. Maybe Katniss really did quit or she was out sick, and this was all a prank Johanna could laugh at later.

Then, he saw her. She emerged from the kitchen balancing two trays of food. Her braid was loose. A few strands of hair were plastered to her cheek and neck. She looked pissed off, which was something he wasn't used to. Usually she just looked bored.

She delivered the plates to a group of college students packed into the corner booth. They thanked her in loud, boisterous voices.

Peeta received his food a few minutes later. He ate slowly, but he never saw an opportunity to go over to Katniss and say hello. She was much too busy, and looked way too stressed. He ended up leaving later without a word.

The next night, he went to bed shortly after eight, set his alarm for three and arrived at the diner at three-thirty in the morning. Despite the solid seven hours of sleep, he was exhausted, not used to being up at such an odd time.

The diner was nearly deserted. Peeta counted two other occupied tables.

Thom, the waiter from the night before, greeted him at the cash register. "Sit anywhere you like."

"Which one is Katniss's section?"

He saw her then, sitting on a barstool in front of the counter, watching the television mounted in the corner. She turned at the sound of her name. Her wide grin made his sleepiness worth it.

"Hey!" she greeted. She pointed him over to his usual table and followed him over. "What can I get you?"

"It's only been forty-eight hours, and you've already forgotten my order? I thought I was your favorite customer."

"You're my least favorite customer, actually. You know I prefer Mr. Heavensbee."

"Right, the guy who tips a quarter and thinks you should be grateful. How could I forget?"

She smiled and disappeared into the kitchen. A minute later, she reappeared and sat across from him.

"So Johanna passed along my message?" she asked.

"She might have mentioned your new shift."

"Sorry I didn't get to tell you. I was supposed to have another week working first shift, but my mom's hours changed earlier than expected."

"Your mom's hours?"

Katniss brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. "She's a nurse at the hospital, and my sister has a part-time job at the library. We all share one car. It's a complicated system."

"Oh. Sounds stressful."

"Yeah." She shrugged. Months ago, she would have looked embarrassed, but she had grown used to him. He liked that she was less self-conscious around him. He still didn't know much about her, but he wanted to learn.

"You know, if there's ever an emergency, or you just need a ride somewhere, you can call me," he said.

Her expression changed, but he couldn't read it. He thought she might refuse, that he had somehow crossed a line. At the same time though, she had looked happy that he showed up to have breakfast with her. It was obvious he wasn't up for work purposes. If that didn't put her off, surely his offer wouldn't.

"Thank you," she said, her voice sincere. "I really appreciate it."

"No problem."

She excused herself and returned with his usual order plus one smiley face pancake. "To celebrate the end of the school year," she said.

She sat with him while he ate, and told him how Prim wanted to be a pediatrician when she grew up and currently volunteered at the hospital where their mother worked, reading stories and doing crafts with the children.

The way Katniss talked about Prim transformed her entire face. Peeta had always thought she was pretty, but she looked beautiful as she described Prim. She glowed with pride.

"She sounds amazing," Peeta said.

Katniss smiled, one of the most beautiful ones she had ever given him. "She is."

* * *

This new routine took a bit of getting used to, but Peeta figured if Katniss could make the switch from days to nights just like that, surely he could get his ass out of bed at three AM.

She was more talkative at four in the morning, much more so than she was at six-thirty. She still listened to him, asked him how summer school was going (fine), and if he had made friends yet (did Katniss count?), and what he did in his free time (worry about getting a full-time job). But in the quiet moments, she offered up facts about herself: her love of archery, her desire to move, the people she socialized with outside of work.

It was hard to imagine her out of the black v-neck emblazoned with the District Diner logo that she wore. At first, he couldn't visualize her with a bow and arrow in a bright green field, sitting in a movie theater with a group of friends, or dropping her sister off at the library.

Despite that first run-in at the grocery store, he had yet to see her again outside of the diner.

But slowly, she became more of a real person, someone who existed outside of this one place, a girl with her own life, her own desires, her own pain.

It only made him more certain that he was in love with her.

And it only made him want more.

* * *

One night, Katniss made the mistake of asking Peeta about his favorite college class and got an earful about the multiverse theory.

"You're crazy," she said.

"No, listen, the professor was crazy, but he made some valid points." As a sophomore, he had taken a physics class to fulfill one of his science requirements and ended up learning about the idea of parallel universes.

"There are a lot of theories about the multiverse, none of which have been proven," Peeta said. "My favorite is the idea that the universe is infinite. So there are an infinite number of possibilities."

"What do you mean?"

"Like if I rolled a die, in one universe, it'd come up one. In another, it'd come up two."

"And it's like that for everyone?" she asked. "It's kind of hard to wrap your mind around infinite."

Peeta was about to go on when Haymitch, the assistant manager and night cook, came out of the kitchen and told Katniss to go home.

"It's dead here. I gotta send someone home," he explained when Katniss protested. "And you're just talking to your boyfriend."

"This isn't my boyfriend," Katniss said, very careful not to look across the table at Peeta. "This is my best customer."

"That doesn't sound right," Peeta interjected. She glared at him.

"Whatever. But someone needs to go home, and it can't be Clove. She threatened to stab me if I sent her home one more time."

Katniss frowned. "She is kind of crazy."

"Is that what you want? For me to be stabbed in the eye?"

"That's not a fair question," Katniss said. "What if she wants to stab you somewhere else? Like your leg? That doesn't sound as bad."

"Katniss."

"Fine, send me home. You do realize I don't have a car and will be stuck sitting her for another hour anyway? Just without pay."

"I can drive you home," Peeta offered.

"Yeah?" Katniss asked.

"I mean, if it doesn't make you feel uncomfortable or anything," Peeta said.

"No," she said. "I mean, it doesn't."

As they walked out the door together, Peeta thought about how in a parallel universe, Katniss had turned him down. He was glad he wasn't living there.

* * *

Katniss talked Peeta into driving her to the tiny airport two towns over. When they arrived, she led him to the giant field adjacent to the airport. She told him she would teach him archery – just without the bow and arrows.

She showed him the proper form. He tried to copy her as she hovered behind him, fixing his elbows and legs.

"You're not doing it right," she said.

"I am, actually. This is a pretend bow made specifically for me. This is how you hold it."

"I'm not letting you touch my bow until you at least have the proper form down."

"The proper form would be a lot easier if I was holding your bow."

She sighed and sat down on the ground. She held up her hand, inviting him to sit beside her.

"What are your hobbies?" she asked.

"Um, teaching. Reading. You."

"I am _not_ a hobby."

"You're right. You're a full-time job."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "What kind of stuff did you do when you were younger? Like in school?"

"Let's see. I attended Choate, which is a ridiculously expensive and elite boarding school."

"No time for sports?" she asked.

"Oh no, you make time for sports and other extracurricular activities. You have to be a well-rounded person in order to get into the college of your choice."

"Of course."

"You know, I think they had archery there."

"And you didn't learn." She clucked her tone in mock disappointment.

"I wrestled all four years."

"Impressive."

"I was also on the debate team and a member of mock trial, the National Honor Society, the literary magazine, and FBLA."

"FBLA?"

"Future Business Leaders of America."

She glanced over at him. "Wow. Did you have time to sleep?"

"I scheduled that in between eating dinner and wrestling."

"Sounds tough."

"I don't want to complain. I had a lot of opportunities that other people don't get. But it was hard. And exhausting. But it got me into Yale."

Her eyes widened. "I didn't know you went to Yale. That's amazing."

He shrugged. "I was an English major. My mother wanted me to go to law school, but I wanted to be a teacher. We fought about it constantly. I don't know what made her change her mind, but here I am."

"What happens if you don't get the job here?"

"And I move back? Probably law school. Probably losing control of my life all over again."

She inched closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. "Guess you'll have to stick around here then."

* * *

The following week, when Haymitch announced he had to send someone home, Katniss stopped in the middle of rolling silverware, stood up, and grabbed Peeta's hand.

"See you tomorrow!" she called, not bothering to take off her apron.

This time, she talked Peeta into driving them to McDonalds to get a McFlurry.

"Ice cream at four in the morning," Peeta chided. "You're like a little kid."

He pulled into a spot in the empty parking lot. Katniss slipped off her shoes and rested her feet on the dash. Her toenails were a neon green, which for some reason, Peeta found adorable.

"You really don't mind me eating in your car?" Katniss asked, shoving a spoonful into her mouth.

"I think it's too late for that question," he said. "Can I have some?"

"Uh-uh. Don't you know the rules of fast food? You want some, you get some. No sharing."

"But…please?" He pouted at her. She looked ready to stab him with her spoon.

"That's not fair. You look like a damn Disney prince. All sad and charming and handsome."

"Wow," Peeta said. "Were you trying to insult me and just failed spectacularly, or was all that on purpose?"

"Shut up," she said, taking another bite. "You're not getting my dessert."

As soon as she had another scoop on her spoon, he grabbed her wrist. She yelped and tried to pull away while simultaneously not spilling the ice cream. Peeta lunged forward. The spoon scraped the side of his face before finally, he managed to get it in his mouth.

"Delicious," he said, sitting back. "Thank you."

Katniss stared at him, wide-eyed. Then her entire expression changed. She dropped the spoon into the cup of ice cream and leaned toward him.

"You owe me a bite of ice cream," she said.

"What are you talking about? You have an _entire cup_ right there."

She grabbed the side of his face and moved closer. His heart hammered against his rib cage, an uncomfortable knocking he was certain she could hear.

She took his top lip into her mouth, sucking the ice cream that remained there, before trailing her tongue to the corner of his lips up his cheek. She sat back, a satisfied look on her face. She picked up her ice cream and resumed eating.

"Okay, now we're even."

It was another few minutes before Peeta could find words. In the end, he let her eat her ice cream in silence.

The weird part was, the silence between them was comfortable, easy, like her kissing him was something she did every day.

(Now there was a thought.)

* * *

When they pulled up outside her house, Katniss made no move to get out, so he turned the car off.

"I never thanked you, you know. Or apologized. About our first meeting," she said.

"The grocery store?"

"Yeah. I was incredibly rude, and I'm sorry. I know you were just trying to help."

"Not so fast. The truth it, I was trying to do something nice in order to score good karma for myself. So really, it was all about me."

He caught her smile out of the corner of his eye. They looked at each other then, maybe for a beat too long.

"We're not poor," she said. "Not exactly. Just sometimes everything adds up, and there's not enough to go around."

"Well, if you ever get sick of peanut butter sandwiches, I can always make you something at my house."

"Is that an official invitation?" she asked. Her gaze flickered to his lips before meeting his eyes once more.

"Definitely."

She smiled at him. "Okay. When I want something other than diner food or a peanut butter sandwich, I'll text you. And you'll…what? Cook for me?"

"This may surprise you, but I can cook just fine, thanks."

"Mmm," she hummed. "I guess we'll see."

Her hand landed on the door handle, but she hesitated.

"Peeta?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe you should start ordering something new at the diner," she said. "Change it up."

"Would you be okay with that?" he asked. "I don't want to change everything on you."

"I'm good with that. Promise."

He kissed her then. She tasted like vanilla ice cream, the perfect treat on a hot summer day. Her fingertips were sticky as they found the back of his neck, but he was too lost in her lips to care.

He tried to pull her closer, but the emergency brake blocked them, so he settled for leaning forward as far as he could, one hand on her face, the other bracing himself against the brake.

"You taste good," she sighed, her mouth following the same path it took earlier, up his cheek until she reached his ear. "I've been wondering what you taste like."

It was too dark in the car to make out much of her face, but he felt the intensity of her stare.

"C'mere," he whispered, and she kissed him again.

* * *

The next night, he ordered a cheeseburger and French fries.

"Something different?" she asked.

"Just trying to shake things up," he said.

* * *

The first week of August, right after summer school finished, Peeta simultaneously received some of the worst news of his life and came down with the flu.

(He blamed Glimmer—not for the news but for the flu—the girl who always sat in the front row, smiling at him, or leaning over his desk, giving him an ample view of her so-not-legal chest. She had been achy and tired the last couple of days. And she had hugged him goodbye.)

It wiped him out. For two days, he remained in bed, getting up only to use the bathroom and heat up a bowl of soup. He subsisted on broth and crackers and was absolutely miserable.

On the third day, as he began to feel somewhat better, a phone call woke him at six AM. He sat up in bed way too fast, the dizziness giving way to an awful pounding in his head. He fumbled for his cell phone, and answered without checking the number.

"Hello?"

"Peeta?"

It took him a minute to place the voice. She sounded different on the phone.

"Katniss?" He pushed himself out of bed, slowly this time. "Are you okay? Do you need a ride?"

"No, I'm fine. I was just…worried."

"Worried?"

"You haven't been here in three days, and I was just…concerned."

"I'm sorry. I'm sick. I've been in bed for the past few days." He sunk back into the mattress, curled up around his cell phone. "I didn't mean to make you worry."

"It's okay. It's not like you have to come in or anything. I just…got used to it, I guess. Are you feeling better?"

"I'm getting there. I'll probably be in this weekend."

"Okay," she said. Was it his imagination or did she sound disappointed? "Take your time. You have school starting soon."

Right. The school year. The school year during which he had no job lined up. He had been up against two other people for a permanent position as an English teacher, but he hadn't gotten it.

That had been the great news he received the last day of summer school.

He had applied for several other positions nearby just in case this happened, but so far he hadn't heard anything.

If he didn't get something soon, he was afraid he'd have to move back to Connecticut and abandon his dream of being a teacher. He had no doubt his mother would force him into law school.

And worse than returning to his childhood home, his mother's "I told you so's" following him like a shadow, was the idea of leaving Katniss behind.

"Peeta?"

"Sorry. Drugs are making me space out. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Sure. Feel better."

Later that afternoon, his phone woke him again. This time, it was a text message from Katniss asking for his address. Without thinking much of it, he gave it to her before falling back asleep.

* * *

He wasn't sure how much time passed between the text message and the knock on his door, but it felt like seconds. He dragged himself out of bed, his comforter wrapped around him, and opened the door.

Katniss stood there, dressed in denim shorts and a green tank top. She carried a bag of groceries.

"You look awful," she greeted him.

"I'm not wearing a shirt," he said. "Or pants."

"I can see that. You can get dressed if that'll make you more comfortable."

He blinked. The drugs were making him groggy. Also, he was possibly hallucinating.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

"Sure." He stepped out of the way and shut the door behind her.

She walked right into his kitchen as if she had been there a million times before. She set the groceries on the counter, checked the refrigerator, and clucked her tongue.

"Just as I suspected. Not much food." She looked over at him where he still lingered near the closed door. "Peeta, sit down. You look ready to pass out."

She put a hand on either side of him, her hands sinking into the comforter, and led him to the couch. She stood over him and smiled.

"So what do you want? Omelets or pancakes?"

"Uh…"

"Say pancakes. I'm in the mood."

"Pancakes," Peeta said immediately. "That sounds perfect."

* * *

After lunch, she made him wait on the couch while she changed his sheets. She brought the linens and the comforter he wrapped himself in down to the basement to wash. When she came back up, she found him in bed wearing pajama pants, covered in a throw blanket.

"Can I?" she asked, lifting the edge of the blanket.

He nodded and she slipped underneath.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes and no," he answered. "I think…I think I'm going to be moving soon."

"Bigger place?" she asked, looking hopeful.

"Something like that."

She sat up, letting the blanket slip down her body. "You didn't get the job."

"No."

"Have you tried anywhere else nearby?"

"I've tried everywhere in a twenty mile radius," he said. "The odds just aren't in my favor."

"So you're going back to Connecticut?" she asked.

He groaned and pulled the covers over his head.

"Yes," he said.

Gently, she picked up the blanket, so she could see his face. She didn't ask, _what happens now?_ She didn't ask, _what does this mean for us?_ Because she already knew. He could tell from her expression.

"Maybe you'll find something there. Something that'll make you happy."

He reached up to touch her face, thinking of what awaited him: an overbearing mother, a parade of girls for him to choose from, law school.

But those weren't the reasons his chest hurt. Those weren't why he said, "No, I don't think so."

She lay back down beside him. Eventually, they fell asleep, Katniss's head resting against his chest, his arm curled protectively over her. As the hours passed, they parted in their sleep, as if the distance was already growing between them. As if he was already gone.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! I promise every universe will have a resolution.

* * *

2.

As soon as Mr. Mellark turned left onto Victory Lane, Peeta knew he was fucked. He had assumed his family would be going to Sage to celebrate his mother's birthday. It was her favorite restaurant, and their usual pick.

But he knew, without a doubt, that they would be dining at the Gilded Rose tonight. There were plenty of restaurants in this part of New Haven, but fate was going to screw him over. He wondered if his mother somehow knew about Katniss, if she was doing this on purpose.

(He often confused fate with his mother. Both were omniscient, and both were out to get him.)

Sure enough, a minute later, Mr. Mellark pulled into the parking lot of the Gilded Rose.

"You finally lifted the embargo on this place?" Peeta asked, leaning forward into the front seat.

"I can't hold a grudge forever," Mrs. Mellark replied.

Peeta disagreed. His mother was a champion at holding grudges. She still hadn't forgiven him for spilling grape juice on her Valentino when he was seven.

She probably never would. Every time he held a glass of wine in her vicinity, she brought it up.

The valet opened the door for Mrs. Mellark, and Peeta realized it was Gale. And of course, Mr. Mellark had handed off the keys to Peeta with a mumbled, "Tip him well. I don't want him denting the car."

So Peeta forced a smile, his cheeks bright red, and said, "Hello."

"Good evening, sir," Gale replied, staring straight through him.

Peeta gave him the keys and a ten-dollar bill, and Gale nodded at him. For a moment, they knew each other, and it was as easy as when they hung out after hours, two beers open, Katniss draped over Peeta's lap.

Then, the familiarity disappeared, and Gale slid into Mr. Mellark's BMW and drove away.

Peeta knew better than to expect a warm greeting. Gale understood the situation, even if he had never had to pretend before. It had been two years since the Mellarks had visited this restaurant.

In fact, the last time they had all been there was the first time Peeta saw Katniss.

It was when everything changed.

Tonight, Johanna stood behind the hostess booth. She spotted Peeta first, and her face lit up with malicious glee. Before she could deliver whatever insult she had thought of, she realized he wasn't alone.

"Good evening," she greeted them.

Mrs. Mellark skipped the pleasantries and said, "We have a reservation for ten under Cartwright."

"Cartwright?" Peeta echoed.

"Of course." Johanna grabbed several leather-bound menus. "The Cartwrights are already here. Follow me."

Peeta grabbed his mother's arm. She shot him an annoyed look, and he quickly removed his hand.

"What are the Cartwrights doing here?" he asked.

"They're our oldest friends, Peeta. Honestly, you don't have to sound so dramatic."

Peeta could have screamed at the hand fate had dealt him. Mrs. Mellark preferred having all the attention focused on her, so if she was willing to invite the Cartwrights, then it could mean only one thing. She was trying to force Peeta and Delly together.

Again.

Mrs. Mellark couldn't stand Mrs. Cartwright, and she barely tolerated the woman's husband, but it wasn't the in-laws she wanted but the prestige that came with old money. Nothing would make her happier than to unite the two families with a marriage.

Like it was the god damn nineteenth century or something.

Peeta's older brothers Rye and Tyler had already been successfully matched off with pre-approved families. They had married the women Mrs. Mellark had picked for them, although she'd never admit it out loud. She had simply introduced them to young, pretty girls who came from well-to-do families. Rye and Tyler did the rest.

Mrs. Mellark had been pushing Delly on Peeta since he was a toddler. Too bad neither one was attracted to the other. Sure, they were fairly good friends, but that was it. They had made out exactly once, and they had both felt dirty afterwards as if they had kissed a sibling.

Imagine Peeta's surprise then when he reached the table to find Mr. Cartwright, Mrs. Cartwright, and a young blonde that was _not_ Delly.

The woman opened her arms and offered him a dazzling smile. "Hi Peeta," she said. "It's wonderful to see you again."

Fuck. This night was getting worse.

Hesitantly, Peeta stepped into her arms and gave her a quick hug before taking his seat.

Madge, Delly's cousin, was the only daughter of Senator Undersee. He hadn't seen her in at least ten years, and she had really…grown up. Gone were the baby fat and clunky braces.

So this was his mother's new plan? A senator's daughter? Since when did she have such high aspirations for Peeta? He thought a law degree and a respectable marriage would be enough. Apparently, now he was going into politics.

It was a shame she had wasted Rye on Cressida Bellavue. Rye would have made an excellent politician.

"Wow, Madge, great to see you too," Peeta said.

Everyone exchanged greetings, hugs, air kisses. A few minutes later, Rye and Cressida and Tyler and his wife Glimmer joined them. As soon as everyone was seated, fate determined that Peeta wasn't having a shitty enough night yet.

Not only was Katniss working this evening, but they were also sitting in her section.

"Good evening. My name is Katniss, and I'll be your server tonight."

Mrs. Mellark's eyes flashed as soon as Katniss spoke her name. It wasn't that his mother had a keen memory for names or faces, especially when it came to the help, but of course, she remembered Katniss. Her unique name coupled with the Mellarks last dining experience here guaranteed Katniss was seared into his mother's memory.

"Katherine, I hate to be a bother, but do you think we could get another server?" Mrs. Mellark asked. "I recall a rather unpleasant experience the last time you waited on us."

Katniss froze. She glanced over at Peeta before looking back down at Mrs. Mellark.

"I apologize, but we're booked to capacity tonight. I'm the only one available. I assure you I will do everything in my power to make sure you have a good night."

"Hmm," Mrs. Mellark hummed. "So be it then." When she met Peeta's eyes across the table, he realized she knew. Somehow, she knew about Katniss and him. There was no telling how long she had known or how much, but none of that mattered now. Mrs. Mellark was likely thrilled that Katniss hadn't backed down from being their server.

He wouldn't be surprised if his mother had requested Katniss's section when she made the reservation. She had even put it under the Cartwright's name, so he and Katniss wouldn't have any advanced warning.

Katniss took everyone's drink orders and disappeared. He longed to go after her, wrap his arms around her, and apologize for every single thing that was wrong with this shitty situation.

He closed his eyes and reminded himself that in some alternate universe, they had all gone to Sage instead.

In some alternate universe, his mother didn't try to make every decision for him.

In some alternate universe, Katniss wasn't a secret.

He liked thinking about parallel universes whenever life got too overwhelming. He had believed in their existence ever since he'd taken a physics course to fulfill a requirement his sophomore year of college. His professor had been a bit of a crackpot, but the discussions certainly had been lively. There were many theories concerning the multiverse, but Peeta's favorite was the idea that the universe was infinite, so there were infinite worlds, worlds born from every decision each person made.

Sure that meant in some universes he was much happier, but it also reminded him that it could be worse.

Somewhere, he might not have met Katniss yet.

When Katniss returned, she delivered everyone's drinks and pulled out her pad to take everyone's order. Everything seemed fine until Mrs. Mellark held up her finger.

"This is a Manhattan," she said, looking up at Katniss.

Katniss crinkled her brow. "Yes."

"I didn't order this. I cannot stand the taste of whiskey," Mrs. Mellark complained. "I ordered a martini."

She hadn't. Peeta specifically remembered her saying Manhattan, but before he could get a word out, his mother continued, "Honestly, it's not that hard to get the order correct. Maybe if you had written it down…"

"I apologize," Katniss said. Peeta looked around the table and noticed everyone else staring down at their menus. Of course. They weren't going to defend the poor waitress his mother was terrorizing. It was up to him. He opened his mouth, but Katniss shook her head.

"I'll have the bartender prepare a martini for you immediately," she said. "Keep the Manhattan. It's on the house. I'm sure someone at the table will enjoy it."

She disappeared once more.

"She didn't take our dinner order," Mrs. Mellark sighed, taking a generous sip of her free drink. "I knew I should have pushed for a different waitress."

Peeta took a deep breath. He wanted to berate his mother over her treatment of Katniss, but that was exactly what she wanted. She wanted him to admit that he was seeing Katniss, apologize even, for daring to defy her.

"So Peeta, tell me what you've been up to," Madge said.

She was seated to his right, dressed in a strawberry red flared dress cinched at the waist by a white belt. She looked gorgeous, but she also reminded him of housewives from the 1950s. It wasn't her fault she had become a pawn in his mother's power game, but he didn't want to give Madge the wrong idea.

Or Katniss, for that matter.

"I graduated from law school a couple of months ago. I just passed the bar exam."

"Congratulations!" Madge gave him that bright smile again. The braces had left her with perfectly straight, painfully white teeth. "Yale, right?"

"Yup. I was an undergrad there too."

"You must be really excited."

He wasn't. Not even a little bit. He hated law school, hated the internships, and hated working at his brother's firm. He supposed he'd be made partner in a few years, but that didn't sound appealing either.

He knew he was a good lawyer. He had the mind and personality for it. But he hated it. Originally, he had wanted to teach high school English. His mother had dismissed that idea with one look. She hadn't needed to say the words aloud.

 _Waste of time, thankless job, below you_.

Law was boring. Law meant long hours. Law meant selling his soul to corporate America and dealing all day with greedy assholes screwing over the little guys.

The only bright spot was Katniss. She usually didn't leave the restaurant until midnight. Sometimes later. Their strange hours led to a lot of late nights, sitting up and eating Chinese takeout, and talking about anything and everything.

Except the future. Katniss never allowed him to bring that up.

"Yeah. Tyler just offered me a permanent position at his firm," Peeta said.

Tyler looked over at the sound of his name and gave his brother a thumbs up.

"That's wonderful. I just received my Bachelor's in Psychology. It feels good to be done with school," Madge said.

"What do you think you'll do with your degree?"

She shrugged. It was the careless kind, the one-shouldered, didn't really matter kind. He knew she was biding her time, taking a year to "find herself," which really translated to "find a husband."

"Right now, I'm doing a lot of charity work with my mother. Have you heard of her foundation? It focuses on illiteracy in children and adults."

Peeta mentally chastised himself. He knew people like Madge and her mother did good in the world. They organized fundraisers, held galas, threw money at problems they'd never have to deal with. Madge was simply following the path laid out before her. He couldn't fault her for that.

Their lifestyle was a seductive one. Why risk it by straying from the path?

"I have," Peeta said. "She does great work."

Katniss reappeared with a martini. She set it down in front of Mrs. Mellark and waited for the woman to taste it before she began to take everyone's order.

Katniss answered several questions about the freshness of the salmon, the different sides available, the different cuts of steak. She recited the salad dressings the restaurant offered twice. Everyone simply ordered while Mrs. Mellark asked question after question, trying to get Katniss to slip up.

Finally, Peeta cleared his throat, "Mother. Why don't you get the Chicken Francaise? It's your favorite."

"I thought I'd try something new tonight." She glanced up. "Katherine, what do you recommend?"

"The Chicken Francaise, actually," Katniss replied, not bothering to correct Mrs. Mellark. It wasn't worth the trouble. "It's delicious."

"Hmm." Mrs. Mellark pored over her menu for another minute before closing it and declaring she'd take the baked stuffed shrimp. He could practically hear the eyeroll coming from his left. Cressida had about as much patience for Mrs. Mellark as he did, but she'd never speak up.

Mrs. Mellark could easily make Cressida's life a living hell. No reason to risk it over an anonymous server she'd never see again.

"I'll put that right in," Katniss said. "Can I get anyone anything else?"

"Another scotch on the rocks," Mr. Mellark said, his empty glass in the air.

"Of course," Katniss said.

As soon as Katniss was gone, Madge returned her attention to Peeta. She turned toward him, her knees brushing his, and dropped her voice to a whisper.

"So what do you think?" she asked. "Obvious set-up?"

Peeta wanted to laugh, he was so relieved. "That's the feeling I'm getting."

"Look, you're cute, and you seem nice, so I'm game if you are."

"I'm actually…seeing someone."

Realization dawned across her face. "Ah. And your family doesn't know?"

Peeta cast a surreptitious glance at his mother. "Not yet," he lied.

"Okay, so we'll chat each other up, and get along quite well. At the end of dinner, ask me for my number and make sure your parents hear. How does that sound?"

Peeta grinned. "That sounds like you're an amazing, understanding woman."

"Why thank you."

"So it bodes well you won't be forced to marry into my family. We're utterly miserable."

She laughed out loud and touched his shoulder. "Peeta, you're hilarious," she said.

"What's so funny?" Mrs. Mellark asked, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Madge rested a hand on Peeta's forearm and turned her dazzling smile toward his mother.

"Peeta was just sharing a story about some senior year antics at Yale," Madge said. "I probably shouldn't repeat it. Wouldn't want to get him into trouble."

Peeta couldn't help the smile that took over his face. Madge was going to be the perfect accomplice for the evening. Better, even, than Delly because at least Madge was a good actress.

Crap. Maybe too good. He finally noticed Katniss standing nearby with his father's drink in her hand. Her gaze was zeroed in on Madge's hand on his arm. He pulled away and folded his hands in his lap.

"Your drink, sir," Katniss said.

"Thank you, dear," Mr. Mellark replied without looking up.

Once Katniss was gone, Peeta counted to sixty in his head before excusing himself to use the bathroom. He turned the corner, passed the bathroom, and stuck his head into the kitchen.

A redhead named Fox did a double take. "Employees only," she said.

"Is Katniss back here?"

"No."

"Do you know where she is?"

"I'm not her keeper," Fox replied. "Now out." Peeta doubted Fox would have treated him like that if he hadn't already been known as Katniss's boyfriend. Fox knew how to play the power game with these people. Make yourself small. Make yourself unimportant. And never, ever question the customer.

Peeta backed away from the kitchen only to run right into Katniss.

"Peeta? What are you doing back here?"

"Looking for you."

"Well, you found me," she said.

"Can we talk?"

She sighed and glanced over her shoulder. "I have about ninety seconds before I need to return to work."

"That's enough time," he insisted. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out the back exit into the alley between the restaurant and the boutique next door.

"Madge—that woman next to me? I'm not interested in her," he said.

"Okay."

"I'm not. She's pretending to flirt with me to make my mother happy."

"Seriously? Do you hear yourself?"

"Katniss, come on."

"I know the situation. I do. It's just difficult seeing it played out in front of me."

"I'm sorry. I really, really am." He grabbed one of her hands and backed her against the building.

"Peeta, I'm working." She tried to sound stern, but her eyelids fluttered close as he lowered his mouth to hers.

The kiss started out chaste, but he could sense the urgency within her, the need buzzing under her skin. Katniss didn't give a shit about what people thought of her, but she was always so insecure when it came to their relationship, almost as if she couldn't believe he had chosen her.

Which he thought was ridiculous. If anything, he should be falling on his knees and thanking fate for delivering this smart, gorgeous woman that he didn't deserve.

He'd never deserve her. Not as long as he kept her a secret.

He pulled the bottom of her white button-up shirt out of her black dress pants, so he could slide a hand up the small of her back. She groaned as he slipped his other hand down the front of her pants, his fingers quickly pushing aside her panties.

She bucked against him before shoving his suit jacket off his shoulders. She yanked his shirt out of his pants and made quick work of his belt and zipper.

Then, she froze. His mouth was on her neck, but he felt her go still, felt the hesitation run through her like a wildfire, burning the remaining desire to ash.

"What's wrong?" he asked as he pulled away.

She shook her head and moved away from him. Quickly, she tucked her shirt back into her pants and smoothed her hair down.

"I can't do this anymore," she said. "I can't just be a quick fuck in an alley. I can't just be the girl you see in hotels or in the back of your car. It makes me feel like your mistress."

Guilt overwhelmed him. He couldn't bring her to his place because his mother had insisted he remain at home while he attended law school and studied for the bar. Katniss often refused to allow him at her place due to a total lack of privacy.

More often than not, he'd rent a hotel room for them, but he usually couldn't spend the night.

"I know the situation. I know this isn't your fault," Katniss said. "But I can't do this anymore."

"Katniss, no. We can make this work. Please, I—"

"How exactly? Are you going to marry the next woman your mother chooses and actually make me your mistress? Because that's the only future I have with you."

"Then I'll tell her. I'll tell her right now."

She shook her head, even as the promises spilled out of his mouth. "I won't let you do that. You'll be disinherited. You'll be fired from your job. She'll disown you."

He swallowed. It was true. All of it. His mother would take his future away from him, cast him out of the family. He'd never be invited home again. He'd probably never meet his future nieces and nephews. He'd have nothing, no one.

Except Katniss.

He'd have Gale and Johanna and Finnick, his best friend from his undergraduate days at Yale. He'd figure it out. No money, no job, no family. Somehow, he could make it work.

But Katniss was already back at the door, returning to the real world.

He sighed and put his clothes back together. He knew all of Katniss's arguments. She didn't want him giving everything up for her. What if they didn't work out? What if he resented her? There was so much that could go wrong.

But wasn't it worth the risk?

By the time he reached the table, Mrs. Mellark was chewing Katniss out for spilling a glass of wine all over Glimmer's three-thousand dollar dress.

"How incompetent are you?" Mrs. Mellark demanded. "Do you have any idea how much it will cost to get this cleaned? You better be prepared to hand over your next paycheck."

"I'm sorry," Katniss said. "I don't know what happened."

"I want to speak to your manager about the subpar service you've been delivering all night."

Peeta winced as he approached the table. He had an idea of how the wine had ended up in Glimmer's lap. He doubted it was Katniss's fault. "Mom, it's not a big deal. We'll just send it to get dry cleaned."

"It _is_ a big deal. I don't need a plate of shrimp in my lap later," she said. She stood and glared down at Katniss. "Bring me to your manager this instant."

Katniss closed her eyes and nodded.

"Wait," Peeta said. "This is ridiculous. You've been torturing her since we got here."

"Peeta, don't you remember her?" Mrs. Mellark asked. "This is the same waitress who dropped half of our dinner on the floor two years ago."

Yeah, Peeta remembered. It was Katniss's second night at the restaurant. Mrs. Mellark had been on her case the entire evening because their usual server, Darius, had the night off. Katniss had tripped on their way to the table and sent all of the food tumbling to the floor—and into Peeta's lap. Mrs. Mellark had been livid and insisted all of them leave without paying their drink tab.

Peeta had returned a couple of hours later to settle the bill and make sure Mrs. Mellark hadn't gotten the poor server fired. He found Katniss still there, still serving tables with a strained smile. He offered to take her to the diner on the other side of town after her shift was over. She had hesitated, but Peeta's charm eventually won her over.

They ended up spending almost three hours at the diner, just eating and talking. He found out she had only been in Connecticut for two weeks. She had moved there with her best friend, Johanna, and Johanna's boyfriend.

Peeta had been relieved to find out that Katniss was single.

"Mom, that was two years ago, and it was an accident. You need to relax."

"Relax? It's my birthday! Is it too much to ask that everything go well? Go back to the table and sit down."

"Mom—"

"Peeta, I won't say it again."

How? How did she still have such power over him after all these years? Whenever she berated him, he was transported back to elementary school, to high school, even to college. He did everything she asked, yet he could still never win her approval.

The only words he ever got from her were variations of _not good enough_.

He went back to his seat. Ten minutes later, Mrs. Mellark returned to the table. Five minutes after that, Fox served their dinner. As soon as he saw her, a sick feeling rolled through him. He knew what had happened.

He left the table without excusing himself and burst into the kitchen in the back. He cut past the servers and the cooks, and let himself into the staff room.

And there she was. Collecting her things.

"She didn't," Peeta said.

"She did," Katniss replied.

"How? You didn't do anything wrong."

"Seneca has been looking for an excuse to get rid of me for a while. We're overstaffed, and he hates me the most."

"I'm so—"

"Look, I know I can't blame what happened tonight on you, but I want to. It'd make things so much easier." She looked close to tears.

"Katniss…"

"I don't think we should see each other anymore."

"I'll buy the restaurant," he blurted out.

She laughed but it sounded more sad than happy "What?"

"I'll buy it and fire Seneca and any other asshole that mistreated you."

"I think you'll have to ask your mother before you make the purchase," she said, shoving her sweater into her purse.

"I'm sorry this happened. But I'll help you find a job. We can do this together."

"Easier said than done. Seneca refused to be a reference. If I can't find anything, I'll have to move back home. Go back to the diner."

Peeta paled. Home for Katniss was Vermont. Home was a four-hour drive away.

"We'll figure something out."

"No, _I'll_ figure something out," she said.

"Please don't do this. Please. Talk to me at least."

She slammed her purse on the table and stared at him. "You're always telling me there are an infinite amount of universes out there."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, if there are really an infinite amount of universes out there, then there has to be at least one where you and I don't work out."

"No," he said with a surprising amount of strength.

"No?"

"What you don't understand is that we're the exception." He grabbed both of her hands. "We're together. It's you and me in every single one."

She pulled away and picked up her purse. "Goodbye, Peeta."

She walked past him, out into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind her.

He wondered if a universe existed where he wasn't such a coward.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! This is the last chapter. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

1.

Two days after Peeta broke the news that he had to move back to Connecticut, Katniss once again showed up at his apartment. Her arms folded across her chest, a scowl on her face, she announced that he wasn't moving back.

"I'm not?" he asked.

"Absolutely not."

"I can't afford this apartment or my car or food on a substitute's salary."

Katniss ignored him. "Did you tell your mother you're moving back yet?"

He shook his head. That was a phone call to be put off until the very last minute. He dreaded the haughtiness of her tone when she said she'd told him so. He'd probably come home to a LSAT study guide and a pile of law school applications.

He couldn't wait.

"Haymitch lives in a two family house. The downstairs tenant needs a roommate."

"Is the downstairs tenant a serial killer?"

"While we can't rule it out, Thom has shown no obvious signs of being a sociopath."

"Thom? Like from the diner?"

Katniss nodded. "The rent is cheap. Haymitch already said you can live there for the first month free."

Peeta narrowed his eyes. "Why would he do that?"

She shrugged. "Not sure."

"Katniss, you're a terrible liar."

"Really. I have no idea. Maybe Haymitch has finally decided to be a good, decent person."

"Now you're overselling it."

She sighed, caught. "I picked up a couple of extra shifts. It's just for a few weeks while you try to find a job. Maybe you can sub during the day and work retail or some place else at night."

"I can't let you do that for me," he said.

"You can pay me back later."

"But—"

"I took the grocery money. Let me do this for you."

He wanted to argue that this was different. This was more money, more risk, but she looked so sad, and he so desperately wanted to stay.

"I've never worked retail before."

"You're going to absolutely hate it," Katniss said with a small smile.

It wasn't that he thought he was better than a minimum wage job. There just hadn't been time during high school to work, and his mother hadn't seen it as necessary. Maybe if he picked up a tutoring job too, he could make this work.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "You really want me to stay, huh?"

"Well, I'm going to be switching back to days soon. I'm going to need someone to keep me company in the morning."

He kissed her for the first time since that night in his car. When his lips touched hers, he wondered why he had waited so long to kiss her again. He pulled her onto the couch, into his lap, his arms tight around her waist.

It'd be easier to go home. Give into the destiny his mother had chosen for him. Become a lawyer, marry a girl she chose for him, make good money, live in a big house.

He could be just like his oldest brother Tyler. Just like Rye would be in a few years.

Or he could stay and live with a guy he hardly knew. Work three jobs just to make ends meet. Make little money as he struggled to do what he wanted, what he loved.

He could stay and have breakfast every morning with Katniss.

It was an easy choice.

* * *

3.

 _I'm happy with my decision_ , Peeta reminded himself as another camera flash blinded him. His mouth hurt from smiling so much.

Madge nudged him gently so he'd look toward the camera on the far left.

"Last one," she mumbled.

"Thanks you two!" The photographer waved at the pair before turning away.

Now Peeta just had to get through the rest of the night.

The first hour was a blur of relatives he hadn't seen since Christmas and family friends he hadn't spoken with in years. His mother had apparently invited everyone she knew, including people he had never met before. This didn't stop them from shaking his hand and congratulating him on finally popping the question. Peeta didn't understand what the rush was. He and Madge had only been together for three years. He was only thirty, and Madge was five years younger.

But there was that word, thrown around by everyone who stopped to speak with him – finally.

He was finally settling down. Finally starting a family. He was finally becoming the son his mother always wanted.

If only.

His mother had renewed ambitions for him. He was marrying into a senator's family, and he worried his mother had her sights set on a political career.

Wasn't it enough that he had given up his dream of teaching to become a lawyer? That he had agreed to be a partner despite the long hours? That he had proposed to Madge, the woman his mother had chosen for him?

He didn't think he was capable of making his mother happy. She'd never be satisfied.

Two glasses of wine and an endless amount of inane conversations later, Peeta stepped out on the patio to get a breath of fresh air. Unfortunately, Delly, Peeta's friend and Madge's cousin, found him seconds later. Normally, he enjoyed Delly's company, but he couldn't stand the idea of hearing one more "congratulations," one more "finally." And Delly would no doubt have question after question about the upcoming wedding despite the fact that he and Madge had only set the date the week before.

"Peeta!" She threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek. "Congratulations! I can't believe you and Madge are finally engaged!"

She had said the exact same thing last month when she first heard the news. Peeta could probably have this conversation himself. He had already had it with half the attendants tonight.

"I know!" he said with false cheer.

"Tell me, where do you think you'll be holding the reception?"

"Well, I'm not-"

"The Waterview is beautiful. And St. Clement's Castle is gorgeous! Or you can have a destination wedding!"

"I'm not sure-"

"Have you spoken with a florist yet?" Delly asked with a bounce in her step. She was a living, breathing exclamation point. "I know a woman who is absolutely amazing at flower arrangements! And-"

"You know, Del, I hate to do this, but I came out here to reply to a couple of work emails. Why don't you go find Madge? She'd love to discuss the wedding with you."

"Really Peeta, we're at your engagement party! You shouldn't be doing work!"

He shrugged sheepishly. "It's important, and it can't wait until tomorrow."

"Alright," she said. "I'll see you back inside in no more than five minutes!"

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Got it."

As soon as she disappeared, he drifted further away from the door.

"You need a place to hide?" a voice asked.

Peeta jumped. A pretty waitress peeked her head out from behind a pillar. A long, dark braid fell over her shoulder. Peeta cast a surreptitious glance behind him before walking over to the woman.

The Ivy was technically one building, but it was a huge, sprawling venue full of several rooms. Peeta had heard that four parties could be held at once.

His mother had rented the entire place.

Behind the pillar, there was a small gap shrouded in darkness with enough room for a couple of people to hide in. If the woman hadn't said anything, Peeta would have wandered right by.

"Hi," he said. "Are you giving up your secret hideaway?"

"It sounds like you need it more than I do," the woman said. "Who are you hiding from?"

"Everyone." He held out his hand. "I'm Peeta."

"Katniss."

When their hands touched, he felt a sensation in the back of his throat, like the flutter of a butterfly's wing. It moved down to his stomach, and he felt lighter, happier.

It must have been the alcohol.

"I'll let you have a few moments alone," she said.

"Wait!"

She turned back, brow furrowed.

"You work here?" he asked.

She glanced down at her outfit: dress pants, white button-up, narrow black tie. It was obvious she wasn't a guest.

"I do. Is there something you need? My break's over."

"Oh no," he said. "I guess I was just wondering if you like it. The job, I mean."

"Are you looking to change careers?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Looking for a reception hall, actually." His mother would never agree to hold the reception in the same place they threw his engagement party. She would want something bigger, better, more deserving of the Mellark name.

He just wanted Katniss to stay for a moment longer.

"It's okay, I guess. The food's good." She paused and looked him over. "You're Peeta Mellark, aren't you?"

"You caught me," he said.

"Shouldn't you be inside, talking to someone else?"

He took a step back, creating a little distance in the cramped space. "I'm sorry. Am I bothering you?"

"No! No, that's not what I meant. Just...you're the guest of honor. One half of the golden couple. Surely, you have someone more important to talk to?"

"I'm good right here, thanks."

"Okay," she said.

"So I can stay? You'll allow it?"

She smiled, and he realized he was wrong when he had thought her pretty. She was absolutely gorgeous.

"I'll allow it."

* * *

A half hour passed. Delly and Finnick both came looking for Peeta, but with his back pressed against the wall, he was hidden by the darkness and pillar.

Katniss, too.

Once Delly and Finnick took their search back inside, Peeta resumed his story about his sophomore year of Yale.

"To understand, you need to know that I'm a really, really polite drunk," Peeta said.

"How polite?" Katniss asked.

"I start calling everyone 'sir' and 'ma'am'. I've been known to throw perfectly good suit jackets over puddles so girls could walk over them."

"Beats an angry drunk."

Peeta rubbed the back of his neck. "Actually, I once challenged someone to a gentlemen's duel. I ended up with a black eye."

"I guess even gentlemen have their breaking points."

"So after the third bar, we went to Insomnia Cookies together. Do you know the place?"

"You mean the place that serves freshly baked cookies until three AM? Yeah, I'm quite familiar."

"Well, me, Finnick, and Cashmere walked in, and I insisted on doing the ordering. I ordered an M&M chocolate chip cookie for 'm'lady' and an oatmeal raisin one for 'my good sir.' Then, ever the gentlemen, I asked the man behind me in line if he'd like anything."

"You bought everyone in the place cookies, didn't you?"

"I did. They used to have my picture on the wall. I was known as the overly generous gentleman. The workers would cheer when I came in."

"I wish I could see this. You, drunk, holding doors open, helping old ladies across the street, stumbling over your three hundred dollar shoes."

"It's a sight," Peeta agreed.

"Oh, shit," Katniss said, catching sight of Peeta's watch. "We've been out here way too long."

"Do we have to go back in?" Peeta asked.

"You don't, but I do. My boss is going to be pissed."

Peeta would have preferred hiding outside for the remainder of the night, but he knew it wasn't right to leave Madge to handle everything herself. He followed Katniss inside.

An older man with graying hair and a serious frown intercepted them.

"Where have you been?" he demanded.

"I was on my break," Katniss said.

"You get five minutes, not forty-five. I'm going to have to write you up for this," he said. "You should know better."

"Excuse me?" Peeta said. "I couldn't help but overhear. I think you're mistaken. This waitress served me bacon wrapped shrimp not ten minutes ago."

"We're not serving that appetizer tonight," the older man said.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Peeta asked. His voice took on an authoritative tone. He sounded like a man who was not to be questioned. He didn't know he was capable of such a tone outside of the courtroom.

The man suddenly realized who he was speaking to. "No, of course not, sir. Only I-"

"There's no point in writing her up if she didn't do anything wrong," he said. "I mean, we don't have a problem here, do we?"

"No, Mr. Mellark. Of course not," the man said. "I'm sorry, Katniss. Just, uh, get back to work, okay?"

The man slunk back into the kitchen.

Katniss stared at Peeta, her mouth twisted into a scowl. "Powerful is an ugly look on you."

"Excuse me?"

"That was unnecessary. I can take care of myself."

"Wait, Katniss," he said, his voice softer. "I was just trying to help. I didn't want you to get in any trouble because of me."

"How presumptuous of you. I stayed outside because I wanted to, and I was willing to face the consequences."

"I swear, I've never done anything like that before. That's not who I am."

"Really? You're not the kind of person who uses his wealth and status to manipulate the situation to his liking?"

"That's not who I am," he repeated. But he was sifting through his memories, trying to determine if this was true. He had never had to make a reservation at a restaurant in his life. Extensions on papers were always granted for him. Didn't the door always automatically open?

"Then who are you?" she asked.

 _What a very good question_ , he thought as she walked away.

* * *

The majority of the guests had left when Katniss found him again a couple of hours later. She approached cautiously, her face a question.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Why are you sorry?" he asked.

"I was rude earlier. I get it. You were just trying to help. I should have thanked you."

"No, you were right. I didn't handle it well. I guess I'm just...used to being in control of the situation."

"Are you okay?" she asked, studying his drawn face. "I didn't mean to cause an identity crisis."

He knew that hadn't been her intention, but it was what had happened. He couldn't stop thinking of her words and reviewing all the roles he played. Successful lawyer. Dutiful son. Doting fiancé.

None of them made him happy. The worst part was, he wasn't sure if he was making anyone else happy either.

He loved Madge, and she said she loved him, but there had always been the slightest disconnect between them. He felt it growing with each day that passed, and he worried how large the chasm would be by the time she walked down the aisle.

But it was what his mother wanted. And she wanted him to be happy, didn't she?

"You didn't," he told Katniss. "Or at least, you didn't say anything I haven't been wondering myself."

He spotted Mr. and Mrs. Collins hugging and congratulating Madge once more. He waved at them over Katniss's shoulder. Proprietary stated that he should go over to see them off, but he didn't feel like being a gentleman tonight.

"So who are _you_?" Peeta asked.

"See, that's exactly why I'm not one to talk. I don't know."

"You must have some idea. Better than me."

"A waitress who hates her job? A person who has been stuck in the foodservice industry her whole life and would like nothing more than to do anything else. Literally anything else."

"You're a waitress, but that's not who you are. I mean, I'm not just a lawyer."

Katniss smiled. "I think this conversation is getting way too heavy for this time of night."

"Yeah, maybe you're right."

But when was the right time? The truth was, he didn't want to marry Madge. He never had. In the beginning, he enjoyed hanging out with her, sleeping with her, but that had faded with the honeymoon stage. Now they were glorified roommates with no similar interests other than pleasing their parents.

The idea of breaking up with Madge was terrifying though. Maybe he had blown their problems out of proportion. Maybe she was the one he was meant to be with. No relationship was perfect, after all.

How could he be sure which decision was the right one?

He couldn't.

"I have to get back to cleaning up. It was nice meeting you, Peeta."

"You too, Katniss." He held out his hand.

She smiled and shook it once more. The same feeling went through him, but it was heavier this time, more substantial. Like something he could slip into his pocket and look at later. Something he could keep.

He watched her until she disappeared into the kitchen. Then, he went to find his fiancé.

* * *

Three months later, Peeta suggested Finnick have his thirtieth birthday party at The Ivy.

"Isn't that where you held your engagement party?" Finnick asked.

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, won't that bring up bad memories? You broke up, like, two weeks after that."

"I liked that place," Peeta said. "Didn't you?"

* * *

Life had gotten exponentially more difficult since Peeta had broken off his engagement with Madge. A few tears had been shed, but Madge had mostly understood. She had the same reservations as Peeta, and she didn't want a marriage like her parents: stilted, forced, loveless.

It was the storm that tore through his family that that left him jobless, homeless, and almost friendless. His mother had taken everything away from him when he expressed his desire to stop practicing law. As if breaking up with a senator's daughter hadn't been enough!

For the past couple of months, Peeta had lived with Finnick and his girlfriend, Annie. Tyler had given Peeta a good reference, and Peeta was working at another law firm while he attended school in the evening. He was finally going to earn his Masters in Education and become a teacher.

He was saving every dollar he earned, so when the time came and he had to student teach, he'd be able to support himself. As kind as Finnick was, Peeta didn't want to take advantage.

The night of Finnick's birthday party, Peeta wandered around the oversized hall, looking for Katniss. When he didn't find her, he worried that she had either quit or wasn't working that night.

She finally appeared, carrying, of all things, a platter of bacon-wrapped shrimp. She walked around offering it to the guests until finally, she reached him.

"Peeta," she said in surprise. "Hi."

"Hey. Do you get a break tonight?" he asked.

"Uh yeah, but not for another couple of hours."

"Find me when it's time?"

She studied him a moment before saying, "Sure."

* * *

Katniss followed him to their previous hiding spot behind the pillar.

"Who are we hiding from tonight?" Katniss asked.

"Everybody."

"Everybody? Again?"

"I want to take you out," he announced abruptly.

Katniss's eyes widened. "Peeta, you're engaged."

"I'm not, actually. We broke up."

She frowned, her face a mixture of surprise and sadness. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. I think...I think I'm finally where I'm supposed to be."

"Hiding from all the guests at a party with one of the waitresses?" she asked.

"Yeah, actually. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

"You didn't - you didn't break off your engagement because of me, did you?"

"How presumptuous of you," Peeta said with a flicker of a smile. "No, we broke up because we weren't happy. Meeting you that night was, well, a happy accident."

"Like serendipity."

"Or fate."

Katniss shook her head. "No such thing."

"Are you sure?" Peeta asked.

She shrugged.

"You didn't answer my question. Can I take you out?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "Because I've been thinking about you too."

He stepped closer and grabbed her hand. When their fingers entwined, he felt it buzzing in the air: possibility, opportunity.

Sometimes he wondered if the mutliverse theory was true. If there was another version of himself out there standing at the altar with Madge. He felt sorry for that version, trapped by circumstance and an upbringing he couldn't escape.

But he couldn't worry about other universes, when so much had changed in his own. There was still a lot to figure out, but he was ready now: to carve out his own path, make his own decisions.

The future was uncertain, but it seemed much more manageable now that Katniss was a part of it.

He was going to become his own person. Figure out who he was.

Finally.

* * *

2.

It took Peeta three seconds to make the decision he should have made months ago.

He left the staff room and rushed through the kitchen of The Gilded Rose. Before Katniss reached the back door, he said, "I choose you."

She turned, exasperated, her purse hanging off the crook of her arm.

"Peeta, don't."

"I choose you over them. Over everything."

Tears slipped down her cheeks. She shook her head. "But you can't."

"Watch me." He grabbed her hand and pulled her back into the main dining room.

Peeta led Katniss over to his family's table. "Mom, Dad, this is my girlfriend, Katniss."

"You have a girlfriend?" Mr. Mellark looked around the table as if seeking corroboration from another source.

"How long has this been going on?" Mrs. Mellark asked.

"Two years," Peeta replied.

"Two – two years?" Mrs. Mellark rested a hand on her forehead as if to ward off an oncoming headache. "What do you think you're doing running around with a waitress? Honestly, Peeta."

"Relax, sweetheart, he's just having a little fun before he settles down," Mr. Mellark said.

"You're right," Peeta said. "I am ready to settle down. Tyler? Consider this my two weeks notice."

"What are doing?" Mrs. Mellark demanded.

"Taking my life back," Peeta said.

"Your life? We gave you this life. Your clothes, you car, your education – everything is thanks to your father and I! And now you're just going to throw that all back in our faces?"

"I'm not trying to," he said. "You're the one who expects it to be all or nothing."

"We are your _family_. And I will not allow you to throw us away for some…some golddigging waitress!"

"I won't stand here and let you insult her. I'm leaving. We can continue this conversation in the morning."

"Absolutely not," Mrs. Mellark said. "If this is your decision, then it's final. Don't expect any financial help from us. Do you hear me? You are cut off! And when she leaves you after she realizes she won't get another penny out of you, you will _not_ be welcome back into this family."

Peeta stared at his mother. He was surprised at the lack of anger or sadness at her declaration. He just felt…empty. This was how it had always been. Her way or no way at all.

"Happy birthday, Mom." He turned away from the table, but Katniss placed her free hand on his chest.

"You don't have to do this," Katniss whispered. "I'm sorry. We'll go back to sneaking around. Don't do this. Please."

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. He heard his mother's sharp intake of breath.

"You deserve better than that," he told Katniss. "And so do I." He glanced back at the table, at his two brothers, and he saw their futures. The perfect families, the huge houses, the unsatisfying jobs, the long nights, the unhappy marriages.

Or maybe he was wrong. Maybe they loved their wives and their jobs. Maybe they were happy with the path they had been forced down. Maybe he was the odd one out.

"Goodnight everyone," Peeta said. "Sorry for ruining the evening."

He left then, Katniss by his side. He didn't stop when his father asked where he was going, or his mother called his name.

The July humidity enveloped them as soon as they were outside. They walked a block in silence before Katniss turned to him and asked, "What just happened?"

"I quit my job. And I might be homeless."

"Peeta, you just gave it all up. Everything you had."

"I didn't give you up," he said.

A smile flickered across her face, but it was more sad than happy. "You can go back, you know. Right now."

"I'm not going anywhere without you."

"I don't think you understand the enormity of your situation. What you just did…Peeta, that was your life, your entire life, that you just walked away from."

In another universe, maybe he had stayed and made his mother see reason. Maybe he had told her months ago, and had figured out his future by now.

It didn't matter though. He had already bought an engagement ring. At the time of its purchase, he hadn't had a plan on how he would propose or when. It hadn't mattered. All he wanted was a promise for the future.

He wouldn't ask Katniss now. Or anytime soon for that matter. He was already laying an incredible amount of pressure on her, weighing her against everything he had given up.

"That wasn't the life I wanted," he said, a note of finality in his voice.

Katniss was quiet for a moment before she burst out laughing. "Oh god, we're both unemployed. You're homeless."

"I'm sure I can crash with Finnick until I find something else. Tyler will give me a good reference, no matter what my mother says. I'll find something soon. I'll take care of us."

"I don't want to be taken care of," Katniss said.

"I'll take care of us until you find something. Then I'll quit, and you can take care of me."

She rolled her eyes. "I guess that's a good enough plan for now."

They walked down the street toward the parking garage that held Katniss's ancient Honda Civic. They would swing by his parents' place, so he could pick up some clothes, a couple of textbooks, the small velvet box hidden in the bottom drawer of his dresser.

As they walked down the streets of New Haven, hand in hand, their future uncertain, Katniss glanced over at him and asked, "Do you really think it's you and me? In every universe?"

"Of course."

"What about the ones where I stay in Vermont? Or don't take the job at the restaurant? I almost ended up as a cater waiter, you know."

"I find you," he said. "In every one."

She didn't say anything for a couple of minutes. His worry and trepidation filled the silence, and he feared that she'd break up with him anyway, that he had taken her for granted, and his grand gesture had come too late. While the future seemed a lot scarier than it did this morning, at least he had the freedom to make his own decisions. For the first time in twenty-seven years, he was his own person.

But what was the point in carving out a new path if he didn't have her by his side?

"I'd find you too," she finally said. "I'd know there was something missing."

He didn't know if there was any truth to the multiverse theory or if fate existed or if life was just a string of random coincidences.

It didn't matter though. This was his universe, his life. And there was only one clear decision to make.

He chose happiness. Love. He chose a future he could be proud of.

He chose Katniss.


End file.
